


Eye of the storm

by Vaniri



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Porn, Established Relationship, F/M, Grinding, Smut, TB-positive Arthur, True Love, Vaginal Sex, at least I tried to make it agnsty, tuberculosis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-19
Updated: 2019-06-24
Packaged: 2020-05-14 23:50:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19283725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vaniri/pseuds/Vaniri
Summary: After a failed stagecoach robbery and unexpected ambush, reader and Arthur end up in Saint Denis. Arthur is not feeling well, so reader decides to stay in the city for the night and take proper care of him, make him rest and forget about all the problems around them.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, it's me again. I wanted to write a "smut and angst" fic, but got this instead. Anyway, enjoy :D
> 
> (This fic takes place in the middle of chapter 6)

You sighed tiredly, leaning against the Saint Denis Stable wall. It was a hard day and you would be the happiest person alive if it finally ended. First, the stagecoach you tried to rob turned out to be completely empty, as all its passengers (and their precious belongings) disembarked at Emerald Ranch. Later, when you were going back to Rhodes to have a talk with your _discouraged friend_ , who had tipped you off about this "wonderful opportunity", you got ambushed. By the damned Lemoyne Raiders! It wasn't the first time that happened, and you were not alone, but you absolutely hated being swooped by these obstinate morons. The fight was tough, but somehow you managed to survive mostly unaffected. Unfortunately, your poor horse, your beloved four-legged friend, wasn't that lucky and got a bullet. 

It didn't look that bad, but still scared the shit out of you. You loved this creature and couldn't even think of losing her. You tended to her wound the best you could, but you weren't an expert, so you decided to take her to the city, where the stable owner could examine her properly.

Now you were watching as the man carefully inspected your horse, saying nothing but getting a bit impatient. He was quiet for too long, you thought, and that made you feel uneasy. You moved your gaze to your girl, standing motionlessly where you'd halted her and letting the owner scrutinize her whole without any objections, like a good horse she definitely was. She seemed calm and relaxed under the owner's touch, but in her eyes, fixed on you all the time, you saw she was just waiting for a sign to leave this place. 

In other words: she was behaving as usual. That was a good sign.

"Seems like the bullet just grazed her, it's nothing serious." The owner informed, snapping you out of your musing. "She'll be fine."

"Are you sure?" You approached him swiftly, still uncertain. "And is it the only wound? Those... people who tried to rob us, they were fierce. We got under a spray of bullets in seconds, it's a miracle we got out of there alive."

"Her wound may look serious, but I assure you, miss, that it's nothing dangerous. There's no bullet inside, that's for sure. And I didn't see any other injuries, but I'll check again to be certain. I'll clean this one so it doesn't get infected, but she needs to rest now, at least for a day or two, and she'll be fully recovered soon. Would you like to leave her here for a while?"

You were going to agree, but your answer was cut off by sudden coughing, coming from the street. Your heart lurched with fear as it was growing louder and harsher with every second. You excused yourself from the conversation and rushed out of the building, where you knew your companion had promised to wait for you, after paying a visit to the gunsmith.

You found him doubled over by the stable wall, with one of his hands resting on it for support. The other one was clutching his chest, as if trying to ease the pain the coughing was visibly causing. His fit was violent, but fortunately ended pretty quick, and the man could breathe again. He hawked up what was irritating his throat and spit it out on the muddy sidewalk. Not wanting to look at it, he raised his head and then noticed you, watching him with a worried expression on your face. He immediately wiped his mouth with the back his hand and straightened up, trying to look as if nothing had happened. But you noticed the stain of blood his mouth left on his sleeve.

"Arthur?" You didn't even try to hide your concern. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah. That's nothing." He waved his hand dismissively, covering his spit with his foot. "It's this air. Heavy with smoke from all these factories. It's hard to see anything here, let alone breathe with that shit."

You knew it wasn't the air. It was tuberculosis.  
It's been weeks since he got the diagnosis. During that time his health was deteriorating rapidly, due to terrible accommodation conditions, severe malnutrition, as money at camp was tight and food scarce, and constant stress and pressure some of the gang members put him under. Mostly Dutch, who was exploiting him as if he hadn't noticed the state his "best man" was in. Granted, Arthur did his best to hide the fact that many actions he used to take almost effortlessly before, now became difficult and exhausted him more with every day; but certain symptoms he'd developed were hard to miss. He couldn't deny he got weaker and visibly thinner. He blamed it on the shortage of food, but the truth was he had problems with ingesting even small meals. He had also trouble sleeping, as his coughing often jolted him out of his slumber, and when it did, his recurring night fever shot chills through his body, keeping him awake. Arthur of course tended to marginalize his condition, assured everyone who asked about his health that he was fine and his debility was just a temporary inconvenience. But you knew the truth, you saw it in his tired eyes and despondent face. Every day you watched him wither, succumb to the disease, and it filled your heart with trepidation.

"Yeah, I can feel it too." You played along, trying to lift his spirits. That illness was not only destroying him physically, but also mentally. "It burns my lungs and prickles my eyes. What an awful district to live in."

"The whole city is awful. When we're leaving?"

"Not so soon, I'm afraid. My horse needs to stay here for a while."

"How's she?"

"She'll be fine, but she needs to rest."

"You'll ride with me, then."

"We won't get to Beaver Hollow before night and I'd rather not risk getting into another shooting today." You raised your eyes to the sky. There was probably less than an hour left before the sunset, and riding through the Roanoke Ridge forest in the dark, especially when Murfrees were on the rampage, was a death wish. Which was very convenient for you - your current camp was a depressing place, where people only yelled and accused each other of being disloyal, and you took literally every opportunity to excuse yourself out of it. "Besides, you know I couldn't sleep, being so far away from my girl. It'll be better to stay around tonight."

"So we're setting camp outside the city."

"Where, in the bayou? Gators will eat us in our sleep. Or mosquitoes, those nasty little suckers. I'd rather stay here, in Saint Denis."

"I don't think it's a good idea."

"It is. The air is usually better where the saloon is, and a warm meal and some good sleep in a comfortable bed wouldn't harm you." You hopelessly believed that this could somehow improve his condition. Even a little. Because what else could you do for him? "Come on, Arthur. It's just one night, maybe two, in comfort and silence, away from all that bickering at camp. I'll pay for it. And for a bath." You eyed him up and down. "You definitely need one. With a bath lady, if you insist."

Arthur let out an exasperated sigh. He would rather sleep surrounded with gators and mosquitoes than in this damned city, but he knew better than to argue with you, you could be pretty adamant when it came to the matters involving his well-being. Besides, a warm bath didn't sound that bad. Nor did a bed that wasn't an old sleeping bag on the muddy ground. Especially if you would sleep beside him.  
"Bath lady won't be necessary."

************************************

You sat on a creaky, but fairly comfortable bed, looking at a clock standing in the corner of your rented room. It's been a while since Arthur had left to take a bath, you realized. Well, he probably needed to do more scrubbing than you could have expected. At least his absence gave you a couple minutes to just sit and enjoy your moment of respite. You could get used to living like this: having a little house, or at least a room somewhere, a quiet and warm place of your own, where no problems of this world mattered. There would be no gangs, no robberies, no obligations to Dutch or anyone else, no bounties on your heads. Just you and Arthur, living your live peacefully _together_.

Oh hell, the bounty! You should have checked and made sure there was no prize on Arthur's head anymore - for that bank heist the gang had pulled a couple of weeks ago - _before_ you decided to stay here. But you didn't see any posters with his face, or even anything resembling it, on the way to the saloon, and if you remembered correctly, Arthur had visited the city several times after returning from Guarma, without getting arrested. So you could probably assume that Saint Denis had forgotten about his sins. They always did. Still, you'd rather keep a low profile, just for sure.

You flopped down on your back and sprawled comfortably on the mattress, closing your eyes. Your life would have surely been much easier and filled with fewer problems if you hadn't been an outlaw. Not that you really regretted your life choices, you would have been much worse if it wasn't for Dutch and his gang. You should consider yourself lucky; they found you in your darkest hour, took you in, and cared for you when no one else did. They taught you how to survive in this harsh world, they showed you their ways, and let you become one of them. They became your family. 

A family that was being torn apart for weeks. Not many things in your life hurt you more than seeing them all like this, at each others' throats and questioning their bonds. Sometimes you felt like everything around you was falling apart. But despite the pain it caused, you had to stay strong, for your own wits and for Arthur, who needed you sane more than anything else now.

"Sleeping already?" Came unexpectedly from the door. You opened your eyes and propped yourself up on your elbows, watching your companion enter the room.

"Almost. What took you so long? I've been starting to worry that you changed your mind and went camping in the bayou."

"Can't say it ain't tempting, but no. I went downstairs, tried to eat something. But" He shook his head with resignation. "you know."

"Yeah, I do. You planning to go back there, or head to bed? Because if the former, I need to remind you that we should lay low, even more than usual. No excessive drinking, no crazy business."

"Going to bed sounds easier."

"Your kingdom awaits, then." You sat up and patted the sheets beside you. "Clothes off. This ain't your cot, you ain't going to bed in these dirty rags."

"Rags, ouch." He feigned a pained expression, but obediently took off his shoes and unbuckled his belt. "These are the finest clothes in this city."

"I see remnants of mud on your knees. And something that looks like dried blood on your shoulder."

_And that blood on your sleeve._

"Your clothes may be the prettiest in the state or look like taken off a destitute, you know I don't really mind. But they're still dirty. Off with them, now."

"Fine, fine."

Not giving a damn about decency and averting your gaze, you were watching as Arthur took his vest off and shucked off his suspenders, then slid his pants down his legs and slowly unbuttoned his shirt. You saw that contented smile that tugged at his lips when he noticed how engrossed you were by his little show and you nodded appreciatively, letting him know that you really liked what you had before your eyes. Even though it wasn't the same sight as a couple of weeks ago. Sure, his muscles were still well-defined and his shoulders to hips ratio absolutely breathtaking, as you tended to describe it, but he was noticeably thinner. His union suit wasn't as tight on his body as it used to be. It hung loosely around his certain parts, indicating that the man was still losing weight, even despite your persistent attempts to keep it on a more or less constant level.

"Hey, what are you doing?" He asked surprised when you got up off the bed, at the exact same moment he sat beside you, and picked up the trousers he left on the floor, along with the rest of his clothing.

"Taking care of your rags, so they won't look like literal rags tomorrow?" You folded them neatly and put on the sofa standing by the window. You did the same with his vest, and his shirt you slung over its back. You really tried not to look at that smear of blood on its sleeve, but your eyes darted to it before you could stop yourself.

"I could do this, you know?"

"But you didn't. And if I wasn't here, you'd rather leave them scattered around the room and slip them on as you found them tomorrow. Don't say that's not true, I know you too well, Arthur Morgan. I really do."

You were always around him, since the day Dutch let you in. Something drew you to this violent, but always effective and getting his job done man, he quickly became your role model and you looked up to him in literally every aspect of your new outlaw life. You wanted to be strong like him, intimidating like him, and as good or even better at shooting than him. You were watching him at every occasion, trying to learn and mimic his moves, expressions, his ways with the gun. Arthur wasn't particularly happy that you tagged along with him wherever he went, but you were never intrusive or really bothering him, so he accepted that fact and eventually got used to your presence. Sometimes he even taught you a thing or two, just to make sure you could handle yourself well.

You didn't even realize when it turned into something more. You stopped watching and only looked at him, enthralled by his handsome features. You gave up trying to become like him and just enjoyed the time you could have spent together. You really wanted to know him better but it wasn't that easy, Arthur had built so many walls around himself that going through them seemed nearly impossible. But you were patient. You made him feel comfortable around you; you listened to what he had to say and talked when he wanted to talk. You were always the first to cheer him up when he had a bad day, you took care of him and showed affection when he needed it. You became his real friend, with who he was comfortable enough to discuss literally every matter of his life, or just sit in complete silence for hours. He didn't even realize when he fell for you, but when he did, he didn't fight it, didn't try to push you away, didn't let the fear caused by his previous experience ruin it all. He trusted you and knew that _you_ wouldn't leave his side, no matter what.

You two were officially a couple for quite a long time now, and riding together for even longer. You robbed people together, plundered houses together, stole horses sometimes, and even started some bar fights. Well, usually you did, but Arthur always ended them. You were through a lot, shit like Blackwater included, and you knew you could always rely on each other. The bond between you two grew stronger than anyone could have ever imagined and you considered yourself the luckiest person on Earth for having Arthur in your life.

"I'll try to deal with these stains tomorrow's morning." You promised, a bit tiredly, sitting beside him.

"You don't have to. I can live being a bit dirty."

"Oh, I know. But I'll do it anyway, try to make you look like a decent man. As always, and despite your strenuous attempts to remain a dirty cowpoke. Hmm, maybe fighting with you over that matter became my hobby at some point of my life?"

"You have a very weird hobby then, miss."

"I'm of a very peculiar kind."

Arthur chuckled, lightly, so it didn't provoke any coughing.

"Yes, you are. But you know what? You could be strangest woman in this country and I would still pick you over anyone else." He declared, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you closer.

A warm smile tugged at your lips when Arthur kissed the side of your neck. He took your chin in his hand and turned your face towards his, made you look him in the eyes. Then, he gave you more soft kisses, first on your forehead, next cheeks, nose, and the last one where you wanted it the most. It always surprised you how gentle that usually tough and violent man could be with you, how passionate this allegedly heartless outlaw became when his lips were on yours. You purred excitedly when his hand left your face and slid down your body, to your thigh, where it rested suggestively close to your crotch.

"I've got the impression you may want something." You remarked, breaking the kiss.

"Really? What gave me away?" 

"It was a wild guess."

Maybe his hand, now caressing your heat through the layers of your bottom, was some kind of a hint. Or maybe it was Arthur's lips, working their way down your neck, tenderly kissing and sucking every bit of skin they reached. Yeah, you could definitely tell that he was in the mood. 

"...And that's the moment you tell me to back off, ain't it?" He noticed pretty quickly that despite the fact you let him do anything he wanted with your body, you clearly weren't into it yourself. You didn't even touch him once.

"Sorry, Arthur. It's been a hell of a day. I'm exhausted. That would be a real shame if I fell asleep while you was fucking me."

"Something's wrong, am I right, [Y/N]?"

Making love with Arthur was absolutely wonderful. You loved the way he pampered your body, and how adored and wanted you felt under his lustful gaze and tender touch. You loved how he reacted to your displays of affection, how he wasn't scared to open up and show his vulnerable side, and that he _let you_ worship his body. You knew Arthur had his demons, the ones that completely distorted his own body image and undermined his self-esteem. But he learned to believe your words of adoration more than the whispers in the back of his head. He trusted your love more than his intrusive thoughts.

His illness changed a lot in your relationship. Not the way you felt about him, obviously, but how you perceived certain things. You became more observant, more aware of the consequences your actions may have had, and some of them took a serious toll on your man's condition, you found out. Now you had to be a responsible woman and put Arthur's well-being first, take proper care of _him_ before you could take care of his carnal desires. You couldn't recklessly make love every day anymore, as his deteriorating health was putting more and more limitations on his body. It couldn't always keep up with what his mind craved, so you had to be more cautious now. 

"I'm sorry Arthur. I'm not in mood."

"It's okay. I understand." He took you in his arms and gently kissed the top of your head. 

"I'm just... worried." You tried to explain yourself. "That coughing fit at the stable, I can't push it out of my mind, I don't know why. I know you had them worse before, but this one scared me so much."

"Shhh, I know this whole situation is hard for you, but try not to think about that. I'm feeling okay now. Even more than okay, having you here." He pulled you tighter against his chest. 

You calmed down a little, listening to his still strong and steady, but a bit faster than usual heartbeat. You didn't like it when he saw you like that, concerned and unsure. But honestly, you'd rather be sincere with your man than hide your fears away and lie to make him believe that everything was alright. He wasn't that stupid.

"Can we just go to sleep now?" You asked pleadingly. "I'm really tired."

Arthur didn't oppose. After you undressed and put your clothes beside his, he took you back in his arms and lay down on the bed with you on top of him, locked in his loving embrace. You snuggled up to his chest, tucked your head under his chin, and drifted off almost immediately, lulled to sleep by soft music coming from the saloon downstairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> smut will come in chapter 2 ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut ahead!
> 
> (also, big fat thanks for all your feedback, it means a lot to me <3)

You opened your eyes and blinked a few times, trying to focus your blurred gaze on what was before you. This definitely wasn't your camp and you needed a moment to gather your thoughts and recall where you were. Saint Denis, yes. You had stayed here with Arthur, technically to wait until your horse rests after her injury, but also to catch your breath and spend some time together.

You lifted your head and looked at your beloved man, still sleeping, as you noticed. You rarely woke up before Arthur, so you considered yourself extremely lucky that morning. Not spurred to work by anyone, you could just lie in bed snuggled up to your him, simply enjoying his warmth and peaceful snoring (which you personally found rather adorable than disturbing). Sometimes you were just watching his face, so blissful and beautifully relaxed in his sleep, and taking in his handsome features. It was always a challenge for you to keep your hands to yourself and abstain from caressing his cheek, or touching his scarred chin, or dragging a finger along his pretty and tempting lips. But you didn't want to interrupt his sleep. _Not like that_ , at least.

An idea crossed your mind. You could surprise Arthur and make it up to him for yesterday. Make him wake up with your lips on his hardening member. You smiled to yourself at that thought when your hand, previously lying calmly on his steadily rising and falling chest, started its unhurried journey down his abdomen. Your fingers toyed with the last button of his union suit, but you decided not to undo it yet. Instead, you grabbed his still clothed dick and gave it a few strokes. Arthur purred in his sleep, then let out a soft sigh, but didn't wake up. His expression became even more serene though, his face looked so adorable now... _Ah screw it_ , you thought, withdrawing your hand. _You can get him off properly later, now just let him sleep_.

Somehow you managed to slip out of his embrace and get out of bed without waking him. It was ten after nine, you saw on the clock, so you should still have some time to wash Arthur's clothes, and maybe even take a bath. You dressed up quickly, braided your hair, and having decided to go for washing the clothes first (so they could dry a little before their owner wakes up), you snatched them from the sofa, where you had left them yesterday.

Something caught your attention on your way to the door. Your own reflection in a mirror hung above the washstand. You hardly ever looked at yourself; not because you didn't like your appearance, but you rather found futile staring at your own visage absolutely pointless. You didn't have many occasions to do so anyway, as there weren't many mirrors in the camp. That was probably why you didn't even know you had changed so much. All that stress you've been living with, due to Arthur's condition and the situation the gang wound up in, made you visibly thinner. Not very much, but you could clearly notice it. And your face, you were barely able to recognize yourself; it seemed so sad and so tired, even though you just woke up well-rested. One look into your sorrowful eyes made it abundantly clear that all that madness, especially Arthur's illness, was taking a toll on you as well.

You didn't have much time to muse about it, as loud and heavy coughing broke out unexpectedly behind your back. You turned around immediately and rushed to the bed, flinging the clothes you were holding back at the sofa. You sat beside Arthur, who was strenuously trying to force out what was burning in his lungs.

"Hey, [Y/N]." He gasped out when his fit finally subsided. 

"Hey, love."

"You awake already?"

"As you see."

"Well, at least I didn't wake you." He smiled mirthlessly, stifling yet another cough.

"You okay? Want me to go get you some water?" You cradled his cheek, checking if he was feverish. Luckily, he wasn't abnormally warm, nor showed any signs of excessive sweating.

"No, it's fine. I'm fine." Arthur put his hand atop yours, trying to provide reassurance. "What was you looking at there?"

"What?" 

"In the mirror. You was standing in front of it for a while." 

"Oh. I thought you was sleeping."

"Not since you left the bed."

"I just... saw my face there and it got me thinking. How these last few months changed everything. Me and you, mostly." You let out a weary sigh. "I just wish... that things were different. Like they used to be. I really miss our old days."

"You and me both. But sadly, you fell for a complete idiot who ruined everything because he hardly ever thinks about the consequences of his actions. Who can hardly think at all." A grim smile flickered across his face when he took your hand in his, entwining your fingers together. "And here we are. We knew it would end like that, sooner or later. With me dying and you mourning me-"

"You are **not** dead." You cut him off sternly. 

"But I will be. Soon, probably."

"Please don't say that."

"You know it's true, [Y/N]."

Yes, _you did_. But you never let this thought take hold of you. You couldn't even imagine losing Arthur, not having him beside you when you fall asleep, not seeing his face first thing in the morning; being unable to talk with him about what bugged you or celebrate your small victories of the day together. The mere thought of not having him in your life terrified you so much that the only thing you could do now was cling to him and burrow your face into his arm, trying to hold back tears pricking your eyes.

How much time together you had left, you wondered, how many mornings like that, when you could just sit and talk, not giving a shit about the world around you? How many times you'll be able to cuddle up to him and feel his warmth, before death rips him out of your embrace? You didn't know, you _couldn't know_ , and that scared you the most.

"You are not dead." You repeated, raising your head, your voice quiet and trembling with emotion. " _You are not dead_."

You didn't even know when your lips found his, clashing against them in a desperate and messy kiss. You were aware that you could possibly contract TB this way, but at that very moment you couldn't care less about that. You needed Arthur, you needed to feel him, feel that he was indeed alive and here with you. So you were kissing him passionately until you felt light in your head, clinging to him even more after he took you in his arms and pressed tightly against his chest. 

You straddled him and deepened the kiss, pushing your tongue into his welcoming mouth. Arthur was kissing you back like a starved man and you could feel his arousal grow with every second of your makeout. He couldn't keep his hands to himself and touched you wherever they could reach. You purred contentedly when they grabbed and squeezed your ass, rewarding your man with a solid rut against his bulge. He let out a shaky moan and bucked his hips up to feel more so needed friction, grinding his hardening length desperately against your still clothed crotch.

"I want you, Arthur." You gasped out, trying to catch your breath between moans his moves elicited. " _Oh fuck..._ "

"I'll take you from behind." He suggested, kneading your rear again.

"No, I want to see your face."

"And I don't want to accidentally cough in yours."

You snorted softly, resting your forehead against his.

"Okay cowboy, fair enough. We'll do it your way." You pecked his nose and dismounted him, taking in the effect you had on your man. Disheveled, panting, and sprawled in suggestively crumpled sheets, with that ravenous gaze he was devouring you with and a noticeable bulge between his seductively spread legs, he was a sight to behold.

A vile idea crossed your mind while fumbling with your buckle. You could give Arthur a little show and reveal your body piece by little piece, take your clothes off in a tantalizingly slow pace to whet his appetite even more. But one look at him made it obvious that it was completely unnecessary; it's been weeks since you two made love, his appetite was worked up enough at this point. And yours too, so you abandoned that idea and undressed as quickly as you could, throwing your clothes at the sofa. You could have just carelessly slung them on the floor, but you had to set a good example for your cowboy. You may be in heat and still have some manners.

"You too." You pointed at his underwear with your chin. "Off with that, I want to see you naked."

You were watching in anticipation as he undid the buttons, one after another, and shrugged his union suit off his arms. When he made sure your eyes were riveted on him, he slid it past his hips, revealing his half hard dick. You moaned excitedly when he gave it a few strokes, before removing his underwear completely and throwing it towards the sofa with a satisfied grin.

He didn't waste any more time; before you even opened your mouth to beg him to finally fill you, he crawled to you, caught you in his arms, and tossed on the bed. He managed to steal one more kiss before he rolled you over and positioned exactly how he wanted you - with your chest pressed against the mattress and your ass in the air. At that point, even without any proper stimulation, you were wet and wanting as hell. Arthur sure noticed that, but even though, he still took time to prepare you for his thrusting. He slid two fingers along your dripping slit, only to put them in you a moment later. He pumped them into your cunt in a steady pace, reveling in your soft breathy moans, and when he made sure he had you ready and aching for more, he withdrew his fingers and aligned himself with your entrance. Before he slipped in, he slid his now so deliciously hard dick up and down between your folds a couple of times, letting out a shaky moan when you moved in unison with him.

He couldn't take it anymore, so he finally entered you, with a firm thrust that left you breathless. Before you regained even a semblance of your composure, Arthur grabbed your hips and withdrew from you almost completely, then pushed into you again with full force. You felt so good around his length that he was nearly unable to control himself. He began rocking into you almost immediately, every thrust deep and forceful, followed by his guttural groans. And a muffled cough from time to time.

It felt amazing to be filled with his cock again, to feel it move inside your cunt. You tried to buck your hips towards his to get even more delicious friction, but his firm grip kept you in place. He intended to use you as he pleased and _damn, that was hot_. So hot that you had to bury your face in the sheets your hands were desperately clutching to stifle your wailing. Arthur didn't particularly like that, so he suddenly slowed his thrusting and reached for your arms. He forced you to lift your head when he pulled you up and pressed your back against his still pretty muscular chest.

"Let me hear you." He whispered softly in your ear and you nodded, purring contentedly when his lips sucked on your neck, leaving a mark on your skin.

His hips sped up their movements again, setting a steady rhythm, while his lips continued peppering your neck and arm with tender kisses. You definitely liked this position better - you could be closer with Arthur, feel his warmth and rapid heartbeat; he could freely explore your body, and he eagerly did. His calloused palms were tracing your sides up and down and kneading your breasts, while he fucked you in earnest, murmuring sweet words in your ear. The angle of his thrusts was perfect, his cock was hitting _the right spot_ and sending sparks of unadulterated pleasure through your entire body with every move. You loved every second of it and let your man know about that by repeatedly crying out his name, not giving a single damn about the fact that the patrons sitting currently in the saloon downstairs probably heard it all. 

"I'm close." Arthur groaned out, pulling you even tighter against his body and holding in place by wrapping his arm around your neck.

His thrusts became erratic, his desperate pounding made slapping sounds against your skin. You felt his hot ragged breath on the back of your neck, where he buried his face in a moment later to muffle his loud moan as he came hard, spilling his warm seed inside your cunt. That feeling set you aflame, you were _so close_ , but still needed some additional stimulation to reach your orgasm. You begged in your thoughts that Arthur's hand would find a way between your legs, slink in there to rub your clit and make you come undone on his throbbing dick. Sadly, nothing like that happened. Your cowboy rode his climax out completely and then unexpectedly slipped out of your heat, leaving you empty and so cruelly unsatisfied.

"I'm sorry, love. I need a moment." He explained with an apologetic smile as he lay down on his back, trying to catch his breath. He also coughed a few times, covering his mouth with his wrist.

"It's fine. I think I can help myself here." You decided, ogling his post-orgasm body from head to toe, and straddled him. You felt his semen dribble out of you slowly when you sat on his lap, and it made you even more aroused than before, but you waited patiently until he rested a while and calmed his breathing. 

When he seemed ready, you positioned yourself above his slowly softening, but still hard enough for your purpose dick, and grinded against it. You found the perfect angle pretty quickly and set a satisfying pace, making your clit slide up and down his gently pulsing member with the right amount of pressure. To your delight, Arthur wasn't only passively watching you work up your bliss; he propped himself up on one elbow and reached to your breasts, caressing them and rubbing your nipples with his thumb.

"Oh shit, _fucking hell!_ Arthur!" You sobbed as you sped up the movements of your hips, rutting your bud vigorously against his shaft, while his hand played with your tits. It didn't take long before you threw your head back and wailed uncontrollably, as your orgasm hit you hard and spread through your body, shaking it and leaving you completely breathless. 

When your ecstasy subsided and your wits came back to you, you felt remorseful for getting so carried away with your emotions that you let your desire take over you completely. You shouldn't have done this. Your moment of pleasure might have provoked another violent coughing fit, or even caused Arthur to lose his consciousness and worsened his condition. But one look at your beloved man, lying under you as relaxed as he hadn't been in weeks and beaming a contented smile at you, washed your guilt away. That moment of respite from all that shit going on around you lately, when all the problems went away and you could feel like all that mattered was you two, was probably worth the risk.

"You okay there?" You asked, dismounting your cowboy and plopping down beside him.

"Better than okay."

"Yeah, I can see that." You dragged a finger across his deliciously hairy chest. "So I don't have to apologize for jumping at you like that?"

"No. If someone should apologize for anything here, it's probably me. [Y/N], I'm sorry if I made you upset with what I said before. But I just want to be sincere with you instead of pulling the wool over your eyes and lying that I could get better, just to give you false hope. I won't get better, [Y/N]. And you know that."

" _I do_ " You admitted somberly. "but a part of me, that idiot one I suppose, still believes in a miracle. Less with every passing day, but I still do."

You sat up and moved closer to him, feeling your heart flutter in your chest under his tender gaze, full of unadulterated love. Your hand cupped his face, his two days' worth of stubble tickled your thumb affectionately caressing his cheek.

"I don't know what future will bring to us." You whispered softly. "But I know for sure that whatever happens, I'll stay with you till the end."

"I know, [Y/N]. I trust you."

You pressed your lips against his, threading your fingers through his messy hair. Arthur kissed you back, gently and slowly at first, like he always did when you were alone and in post-coital bliss, but it turned into passionate and heated kissing very quickly. You didn't even realize when you landed under him, trapped in his arms and pinned to the mattress by his warm body. 

You had no idea how much time with your beloved man you had left, but in that moment you made a decision to cherish every second of it, instead of wasting it by succumbing to your fears.


End file.
